


Jackrabbit Week Fills - April 2014

by CleverCorgi



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Dark!Jack, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, at least for a little while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverCorgi/pseuds/CleverCorgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of my fills for Jackrabbit Week, April 2014, originally posted on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> So. I said I'd collect these together on AO3, since they form a loose, continuing narrative. Here we are then. Each of these will contain a link to the [original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/82947173368/jackrabbit-week-beginnings) on Tumblr. Enjoy!

The first time he saw the Easter Bunny had been on a Tuesday in the spring of seventeen fifty-four.

The day had dawned clear and bright, the sun tracking slowly through the heavens as the day settled into a pleasantly balmy afternoon. Jack had been flitting about in the colder reaches of North America, before skimming across the Great Lakes towards his home.

Well, at least what he considered home; the villagers that lived near his lake couldn't exactly see him, despite his best efforts, but he still considered the place home. The little cave hidden beneath the rocky outcropping abutting his lake – that he'd carefully carved and widened with his ice and a great deal of time and patience - was certainly better than nothing; the little touches he'd added to it gave it a nice homey feel, even if it was still rather bare.

He reallyneeded to spend more time watching the carpenter in town if he wanted to have _real_ furnishings someday.

A flash of grey out of the corner of his eye brought him up short. Instantly wary – for though the mortal humans could not see him, he'd had some pretty nasty encounters with a few disgruntled spirits – he scanned the lightly forested copse for any further signs of movement. Just when he'd about given up, thinking himself daft for jumping at shadows, of all things – for surely that's what it had been – he saw the flash of grey again. It was running in a southerly direction, with great speed, and was already nearly out of sight. Curiosity getting the better of him, Jack made to pursue the blur.

_Maybe the eighth time will be the charm?_ he mused as he flew.

Jack had to admit, the grey-something was amazingly quick; he could barely keep up, and only because he was flying above the forest and didn't have to dodge obstacles. Unfortunately, after about ten minutes of pursuit – his quarry apparently still unaware of his existence – he managed to lose sight of the creature.

Swearing under his breath, he flew lower, beneath the forest canopy. Weaving through the trees, he hunted for signs of the creature's passing. Luck must have been with him today, for in short order, he found sign: a tuft of grey fur. And tracks. Rabbit-like tracks.

Nearly larger than his _head_.

Putting that thought aside for the moment, he set to carefully following the trail. He nearly lost it a few times, until he realized that the rabbit-creature liked to bound off tree trunks and boulders. Once Jack figured that out, it was easy to follow – he just had to make sure to look ahead a dozen or more feet each time.

Landing next to a boulder to examine the tracks more closely, he froze when he heard noises coming from the other side. Peering around it, he found the creature. It was hiding partially behind a large bush, watching a camp of humans. Odd, that.

Odder still, the creature. At first glance, it resembled a rabbit – albeit one of human-size and general build – but the structure was subtly different. Jack couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it seemed safe enough to approach.

He stepped out from behind the boulder. “Pardon the interruption, good sir, but-”

Gunfire rang out as more humans poured into the clearing where the others were camped, but Jack barely had time to pay them any mind, as he suddenly found himself on his back, face buried in the rabbit-creature's chest ruff.

“What's it with you kids and wandering in the woods near soldiers? Don't you lot have _any_ sense of self-preservation?” it – no, _he_ ; that was definitely a masculine voice – he groused as he pressed Jack down and out of the way of any stray bullets.

Jack muttered a request for the rabbit-man to get off him, but it was so thorough muffled that the creature pulled back to ask, “What'd'ya say?”

“I said, 'Could you get off me? I can't breathe.”

His long ears drooped slightly and he pulled back, still crouching low. “Sorry 'bout that, mate. So, you can see me. Unusual, for someone your age.”

Jack tilted his head. “Pardon me?”

“Humans. Can't see me if they don't believe in me. Aren't you a bit old to be believing in the Easter Bunny? Not that I'm complaining! It's just unusual,” he said easily, shrugging one shoulder.

Jack was having trouble placing the accent, but – wait, _what_? The _Easter Bunny_?

“ _You're_ the Easter Bunny?” he exclaimed, sitting up as he spoke and staring in awe.

The bunny-man grinned. “Aye, that I am. Name's Bunnymund. My friends usually just call me Bunny.” He paused and considered Jack for a long moment. “You're not human, are you? You're a spirit, like me. That explains a lot. Here.”

Bunny offered him his hand – paw? - and Jack gladly accepted the assistance in standing. Dusting himself off, he introduced himself. “My name's Jack Frost. A spirit? Is that what we are?”

Bunny cocked his head inquiringly, ears forward. “What, you didn't know?”

Jack shook his head. “I woke up over a frozen lake north of here with no memories, and no idea who, or where, I was. The Moon whispered my name to me right after, but hasn't said anything since. And none of the other people – I guess they'd be mortals then, wouldn't they? - can see me. It's been lonely.”

Bunny nodded, gaze assessing. “You're a winter spirit, I take it?”

Jack shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I can call the wind, and make snow and ice and frost, so...”

He nodded again. “Yup. Winter spirit.” Bunny glanced over his shoulder and winced. “Yeah, I don't think I want to go out there right now. Battle’s about over. It's not a pretty sight. Look - Jack, was it? - I don't have time to stay and chat right now; I came out this way scouting for next year's Easter. I've got things to do. But, well, I guess if you're ever in Australia, you can look me up, yeah?”

Jack grinned and nodded. “Sure. I'll do that.”

“Take care of yourself now. And don't make it snow on Easter!”

And with that, the Easter Bunny tapped his foot twice on the ground and subsequently jumped down into the hole that opened, which closed a moment later, with a small flower growing in it's place. Jack hummed to himself thoughtfully.

“So that's the Easter Bunny? Strange. Nice, though.” He paused and gazed skyward in exasperation. “Where on God's Green Earth _is_ Australia?”

 


	2. Golden Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83009748933/jackrabbit-week-golden-age) on Tumblr.

After their first meeting in seventeen fifty-four, Jack saw the Easter Bunny – who gradually became simply “Bunny” - once or twice a decade. He did not begrudge the other spirit their long separations, or the brevity of their encounters; he was simply glad to have someone to talk to.

It was during the autumn of eighteen seventy-seven that Jack ran across Bunny in the foothills of the Pyrenees in France. He had been, seemingly, gathering plants and herbs, judging by the hefty basket that lay beside where he sat, propped against a tree trunk, staring off into the sky thoughtfully. Bunny was loosely holding the sketchpad Jack had rapidly grown familiar with, given the artist's proclivity to stop and draw something he found interesting without a moment's notice.

“Hallo, Bunny,” Jack said by way of greeting as he came in for a landing.

Bunny started, turning an unseeing gaze upon Jack; it took him a few long seconds to focus on the sprite.

“Oh. Hallo to you too, Jackie,” Bunny replied after another few seconds, clearly not entirely present.

Jack stepped forward and waved a hand in front of his face. Bunny grunted and snatched Jack's wrist. “What'd'ya do that for?”

“ _There's_ the grumpy rabbit I've come to know. Something amiss?” Jack smiled faintly and crouched in front of his companion.

Bunny started to shake his head, but then paused, before sighing. “Just thinking about home.”

Jack tilted his head inquiringly. “Australia?”

He'd managed to visit a few times in the last hundred-some-odd years, once he'd figured out where the continent was – he'd snuck a peek at the sea charts of several ships' captains until he'd found one that had Australia on it – and found the place entirely too warm for his liking. Bunny'd been right chuffed about it at the time, but had taken the time to show him around during the cooler evenings for several days straight. Jack had never quite been able to communicate how much that had meant to him.

“No, no,” Bunny said, shaking his head for emphasis. “ _Home_ -home, as in where I came from before I made my home under Australia.”

Jack sat down properly, leaning up against the tree across from Bunny; their feet were maybe a half-foot apart at best. Jack swore he could almost feel the warmth rolling off his companion's footpaws in waves. “Where was that?”

Bunny was silent so long, Jack had just about decided he wasn't going to get an answer when he finally spoke. “I suppose I can show you. First, though, let's watch the sunset. I've been waiting to draw it all afternoon; it's particularly beautiful out here.”

Nodding, Jack settled in to wait, though it wouldn't be long now; the sky was already starting to show hints of reds and oranges and -

Jack blinked. “You weren't kidding about that sunset.”

Bunny chuckled faintly, but otherwise remained silent as his paw flit across the page with amazing speed and precision, the enchanted pencil changing colors faster than Jack could identify. His companion finished just in time, too, setting the sketchpad down just as the last rays of the sunset faded beyond the horizon. He looked up, gaze searching as he watched the stars come out.

Several minutes went by before Jack finally spoke. “Bunny?”

“Shush, Frostbite, I'm looking for it.”

“For what?”

“My home.”

Jack paused, mouth agape, and sucked in a slow breath. “Pardon?”

He was once again hushed for his efforts. Shrugging, he, too, turned towards the heavens, enjoying the sight; with as much time as he spent around settlements and cities, he sometimes forgot just how _many_ stars there really were up there.

“Wow.”

Bunny glanced at him. “Don't see this too often, do you, Jackie?”

Jack shook his head. “The city lights are too bright. If I remember correctly... that there's the North Star, right?”

“Polaris, yes,” Bunny said, nodding. “Part of the constellation-”

“Ursa Minor,” Jack interjected, grinning. “I spend a little time now and again at university lectures. Astronomy is interesting.”

Bunny grinned back. “Well then, Mr. Astronomer, what is that constellation?”

Jack considered the sky where his companion was pointing. “Um... Ursa Major. Right?”

Bunny nodded. “And next to it, on the left?”

Jack hummed as he ransacked his memory for the information. “Oh, right! That's Canis... no, Canes Venatici. The hunting dogs.”

“Of neighboring Boötes. Good. It's hard to see with the unaided eye, but right there, just a bit above and to the left of that bright star there?” Jack nodded. “That's what your scientists call Messier 51a. The Whirlpool Galaxy.”

“This is fun and all, but what does this have to do with my question?”

Bunny rolled his eyes. “That's where I'm from, ya larrikin.”

Jack turned a wide-eyed gaze upon his friend. “What? I- _what_?”

And that was how Jack found out that the Easter Bunny, his intermittent companion, was _not of this Earth_. Was, in fact, from a different _galaxy_ over twenty-five million _light-years_ away. The distance of just one light-year had boggled his mind since he'd first learned of the concept several decades back, but for Bunny to have come so far...!

“How? Why?” he couldn't help himself from asking.

After a long silence, Bunny told him.

He told him of a wondrous civilization spanning almost a _full third_ of a galaxy, peopled by countless races, including one that, in fact, looked surprisingly human, though slimmer, taller, and stronger, and Bunny's own race, the Pooka.

Jack listened quietly as Bunny explained how that beautiful and wondrous Golden Age came to an abrupt and terrifying end at the hands of one of it's own brightest stars gone rogue. He moved closer, and offered silent comfort, as Bunny haltingly spoke of the fall of his people. How he was the _last,_ and how he'd managed to steal the Last Light of the Dawning of the Universe before the Enemy managed to snuff it. How he had brought it here, with the remnants of his people's things and hidden it away.

Jack learned of Pitch Black, King of Nightmares, Lord of Fearlings, and Captain of the Dream Pirates. Once-Golden General, fallen to darkness while guarding the Prison Galaxy, the dwarfed, lifeless, and barren companion to Bunny's own.

Jack discovered a burning passion to introduce Pitch Black's face to his _fist_. And then maybe a knife or _ten_.

Bunny chuckled sadly, and ruffled Jack's hair, much to his mock annoyance. “I'd like to do much more than that, but he's too strong to fully destroy, now. He's the Boogeyman; so long as there's fear, he'll live, no matter what we do to him.”

Jack bumped Bunny's shoulder. “We'll figure something out. Someday. Not like he can kill you either; you're a Guardian! Children _believe_ in you! That's much more powerful than fear.”

Bunny smiled brightly at him - Jack's heart skipped a beat - “You're a good bloke, Jackie.” - and promptly melted, leaving him feeling warm, light-headed, and utterly confused.

So it began.

 


	3. Where the Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83115323163/jackrabbit-week-where-the-heart-is) on Tumblr.

After that night in eighteen seventy-seven, it took Jack a full half-century to figure out why he had butterflies in his stomach whenever he had occasion to meet with Bunny. Occasions that were coming less frequently, much to his displeasure, but needs must; the world had been a busy and dangerous place for several decades in the lead up to the Great War. Countless short wars between the European powers and the indigenous peoples of the less 'civilized' parts of the world, alongside several large-scale conflicts, like the Boxer Rebellion and the Second Boer War.

And, after the Great War, they went right back to their local and regional conflicts. Jack shuddered despite himself, just _thinking_ of the Russian Civil War.

With that much death and destruction, the Guardian of Hope was a very busy bunny indeed.

Then came the twenty-ninth of October, nineteen twenty-nine. Black Tuesday they called it, or simply the Crash. Regardless, when Wall Street crashed and burned, so too did America's economy and with it, the world. The depression that followed, which some had dubbed a Great Depression, and the subsequent _second_ World War, meant that Jack did not see his friend for over a decade.

It wasn't until Easter nineteen fifty-four that Jack saw Bunny again. And the butterflies were even stronger than before.

“Hey Cottontail. Long time, no see,” Jack said as he landed quietly next to the Pooka.

Bunny cocked an ear at him, though he did not turn his gaze from watching the children hunt for his eggs. “Cottontail? That's a new one, Frostbite.”

Jack chuckled nervously, trying desperately to ignore his stupid crush for _five minutes._ Was that too much to ask?

“I saw it in a book. I thought it fitting. How've you been?”

“Busy,” he replied tersely, before freezing in place a moment. Bunny then sat back on his haunches and turned to Jack. “Sorry mate. I've neglected you. It's been, what, twenty years?”

_Twenty-five years, four months, twelve days, and thirteen hours,_ Jack thought, but what he said was, “Something like that, yeah. I'm honestly surprised I caught you out here.”

Bunny smiled at him. _The_ smile, the one that set his butterflies churning and his heart aflutter. Jack did his best not to blush. “Still. It's not right, me leaving you alone that long. I should have found the time. We see each other infrequently as it is.”

Jack shrugged, noncommittal. Truth be told, if he could, he'd move in with the Pooka and, if things went well, _never_ leave his nest.

But he knew that was just wishful thinking; Bunny just thought of him as a sometimes-friend, and nothing more.

Bunny leaned forward, an intent look on his face. “I've missed ya, ya know.”

Jack started from his musings. “You- what? Huh?”

The Pooka laughed. “Surprising, I know, what with how often I'm telling you to stop annoying me with the pranks and tricks. But all the same, I did. C'mere.”

Bunny was hugging him. _Hugging_. _Him._

There was no way Jack could hide the blush now, but thankfully, he didn't have to; Bunny's fur did it for him.

_So warm._

“I am sorry I've not been around for you. I know I'm the only one that talks to you. Not right, that is.” Bunny pulled back and grinned mischievously. “Strewth, you can be irritating sometimes, but that shouldn't put others off ya.”

Jack suppressed a shudder of delight, and said, “Bunny, you're flattery will only get you pranked. Or worse.”

His companion chuckled. “I know, I know. Serves me right, doesn't it? Listen, Jackie. I'm sorry, but I have to go now. Much to do; it _is_ Easter after all.”

Jack nodded sadly, and stood, stepping back to give Bunny room to make a tunnel.

Right before jumping in, he turned to Jack and said, smiling softly, “Don't be a stranger, mate. I mean it. You _know_ how to find me in the Outback. Come and visit. Maybe someday I'll even let you see the Warren.”

Before Jack could respond, the Pooka disappeared into the tunnel, which promptly closed, leaving a – a _snowdrop_ in it's wake.

_Cheeky bastard,_ Jack thought fondly, picking the flower and twirling it between his fingers idly.

Still... Bunny had missed him! And invited him to visit more often!

Jack was so overjoyed, he felt like he could fly without his staff. He resolved then and there to confess to Bunny at some point. After they'd gotten properly reacquainted.

_Soon. I'll tell him soon._

 

 


	4. Heartbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83138391672/jackrabbit-week-heartbreak) on Tumblr.

Easter 1968.

Jack would forever look back on that day as the day he failed.

Failed Bunny, by not managing to keep one simple promise.

Failed himself, by not living up to his own expectations.

Simply _failed_.

Jack _knew_ that when his emotions ran high, the weather shifted to match if he wasn't careful. He _knew_ he had to take care not to let things get out of hand, but he'd been so sad, so upset, so _alone_ , that he'd just collapsed in his little cave and wept.

One of his favorite children had been buried the day before Easter. Car accident. Nothing the doctors could do. Sure, the kid couldn't see him, but Jack had gotten rather attached, regardless. He'd attended the midday funeral, unseen as always, and then meandered about aimlessly for most of the day, before it finally sunk in, at which point he'd fled to the one point of safety that was readily available: his cave.

For a fleeting moment, he'd considered going to see Bunny, but hadn't wanted to interrupt his Easter preparations. Perhaps it had been for the best, but maybe Bunny would have been able to calm him down enough and none of this would have happened.

And then maybe he'd still have a shot at winning Bunny's heart.

But no longer. Not after what he'd allowed to happen. Mother Nature, the one and only time he'd met her, had cautioned him, had _warned_ him that he needed to be careful when he was feeling strong emotions, as the weather would respond, particularly if he was in distress. She'd warned him. She had. He'd failed her too.

Because he'd gone home, and wept. Wept, until he fell asleep from emotional exhaustion, unknowing of the storm brewing overhead. By the time he'd woken in the morning, feeling a tad better than the day before, it was too late.

The world was white. He learned, later, that a 'freak snowstorm' had covered most of Canada and the northeastern United States. Even Greenland got a heavy dusting, though that was par for the course for them.

He'd stepped out of his cave, and right into an angry Pooka, who'd cursed and shouted and threatened and raged. Had told Jack he didn't want to see him again, and to never ever try a stunt like this _ever_ again, or he'd regret it.

Jack took it all in uncharacteristic silence; it _was_ his fault that things had gotten out of hand. Had he been thinking, he told himself, he'd have gone somewhere safer, probably Antarctica, like he always did when he grieved, to avoid making a mess.

The one time he didn't... suffice to say, he resolved to _never_ make that mistake again.

It had already cost him too much.

 


	5. Rebuilding Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83216944580/jackrabbit-week-rebuilding-bridges) on Tumblr.

_With age comes wisdom, but sometimes age comes alone._

It was on days like these that Aster had to agree with Wilde; sometimes, his immense age brought great wisdom. Sometimes, great blindness, which only led to folly. Like in nineteen sixty-eight.

Jack stood before him, nervous, and too wary for Aster's liking. Yes, he could admit to himself that he'd gone a tad overboard in his reaction that day, but he had felt justified at the time! Jack's surprise snowstorm had covered nearly half a continent!

But now... he had given Jack a chance to explain himself, after everything he'd done in the fight against Pitch. He owed Jack that much, at least, if only in honor of the friendship they'd once had. Jack had earned the chance.

_There's no fool like an old fool._

Perhaps it was a cliché, but that proverb was very appropriate right now. Having heard Jack's explanation of the events of that fateful day....

He was a fool, to have so bluntly dismissed the possibility that is was an accident.

And now he had to make amends.

Starting with this.

“Jack... I forgive you.”

The boy's brilliant smile was worth every word.

The flying tackle-hug was even better.

“... I missed you too, mate.”

 


	6. (New) Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83230915837/jackrabbit-week-new-life) on Tumblr.

Ever since their reconciliation two years before, Jack had been all but glued to Aster's side when he wasn't out causing mischief, or sowing joy with his customary wintry grace. This meant that, during the Northern Hemisphere's summer, and the Southern's winter, where his workload was lightest, Jack spent the majority of his time in the Warren, following Aster around like a lost puppy. He nattered on incessantly, asking questions about history, the arts, being a Pooka, Aster's work as a Guardian. Anything and everything that caught his fancy.

Surprisingly, Aster found that he really didn't mind.

Further surprising himself, he discovered that, somewhere along the line, he'd begun to miss Jack during his absences. Especially since the sprite always spent the nights in his little cave if he was north of the equator when he tired, rather of returning to the Warren. To Aster.

Eventually, he resolved to do something about that.

“Jackie, c'mere. I've got something for ya,” he said one day, not long after he'd made his decision to do something about Jack's absences. It hadn't taken much time at all to fashion the trinket to his liking, despite his usual perfectionism. He was ready.

Jack flew over from where he'd been perching on a nearby pillar, landing lightly, tip-toeing for several steps as he came to a halt in front of Aster; he crouched down to Aster's eye level, as he was reclined against an ancient oak tree nestled against a large hill, overlooking the River of Color.

“You've got a present? For _me?_ ”

It still saddened him how amazed Jack was whenever any of them decided to do something for him, or gift him something. He'd resolved to work on changing that.

Starting today.

“You might say that. Look on the stump there next to you.” Aster smiled encouragingly when Jack hesitated. “Go on. It won't bite, promise. No snakes or spiders in there.”

Jack gingerly lifted the small wooden box, barely larger than the traditional felt box that humans like to put rings in, and just as carefully opened it. Aster's smile widened at the expression of awe that grew on the sprite's face. Jack pulled out the small benitoite disk, the attached silver dangling from his grip.

“I've never seen this mineral before,” Jack said after a few minutes of simply gazing at the disk in wonder. He turned to look at Aster. “What is it?”

“Benitoite. It's very rare, found in only a few places on Earth, and gem quality benitoite is only found in one place. Here,” Aster explained, pausing to pull out a small flashlight-like device. “Shine this on it. It emits short wave ultraviolet light.”

“Why?” Jack asked, clearly puzzled, but doing as instructed. The subsequent gasp of surprise at the mineral's bright blue florescence was worth the wait. “Bunny, this is amazing!”

“Well, I didn't just make for ya to gander at. It is also a Key.” When Jack shot him a confused look, he clarified, “To the Warren.”

“But I can already come and go as I please. You said so.”

Aster shook his head fondly. “No, you dill, a _Key_ is much more than that. It opens my tunnels, anytime, and anywhere, in the world.”

Jack's eyes had never been larger. “You mean... I- I can come visit you... from _anywhere_... _anytime_ I want?”

If Aster hadn't known better, he'd have sworn he'd just given Jack the Moon, with the way he was acting. “That's right, Jackie.” He paused, clearing his throat and looking off to the side, at the river, ears falling flat against his skull. “I... miss ya, when yer gone.”

He'd barely had time to register the gasp of surprise before he was enveloped in another of Jack's patented tackle-hugs. He returned it warmly.

_A Pooka could get used to this._

 


	7. Spring Cleaning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83242706052/jackrabbit-week-spring-cleaning) on Tumblr.

In the months since Aster had given Jack a Key, the sprite had all but moved in. His things had started migrating from his cave to the burrow around September; at this point, Aster wasn't sure what was left to move. Furnishings maybe?

Not that he was complaining; far from it, truth be told. Jack continually surprised him, being as good company as he could wish for. Though the teen's painstaking efforts to avoid offending Aster were wearing a bit thin on his nerves, even though he knew Jack meant well.

He understood all too well that Jack did not want a repeat of Easter '68 over something as simple as a broken cup. Aster didn't quite know how to tell him that he'd resolved to not let anything come between their friendship ever again.

No matter what it took.

So it was that he found himself sighing gustily one fine spring day, not long after Easter 2015, after hearing series of loud crashes and discordant banging from inside the burrow. His sharp ears picked up every curse and worried exclamation of the sprite. Poor kid.

Aster approached silently, curious as to what Jack had done, but not wanting to startle him – Jack did very foolish things when surprised.

“Oh no. No no no. This isn't happening!”

Some more banging of metal objects – pots and pans? - interrupted the flow of words, which nicely disguised the opening and closing of the front door. Aster paused in the hallway, just outside the kitchen, and listened.

“He's going to kill me for breaking all the dishes! How could I be so _stupid_? I'm going to get thrown out for sure!”

Shaking his head, Aster stepped to the side and quietly extracted a broom, dust pan, and bucket from the hall closet. Peeking around the corner, he waited until Jack's back was turned before entering; Jack was too busy re-hanging all the pots and pans above the stove to notice. He kept an eye on Jack, waiting for the inevitable panic attack once the sprite turned around.

He was not disappointed.

“Bunny! Um, um, um...! I can explain!” Jack exclaimed, the expected panic evident in his voice. “You see, I was just... and then it tipped... I tried to-”

“Jack,” Bunny said calmly, not pausing in his sweeping.

He froze. “... yes?”

“There's another broom in the closet. Gonna help me, mate?” He turned a small grin on Jack, just to be safe.

The sprite always calmed when he smiled at him, though he hadn't figured out why yet. True to the pattern, Jack visibly calmed down. He was still a bit wide-eyed and flushed, but that wasn't unexpected. His adrenaline was likely still up, after all.

“Um... right! Right. I'll just... go get that. Like, now.”

Jack dashed out of the room, returning a moment later with his own broom, and began sweeping up the mess. In the meantime, Aster had been examining the patterns in the dust on the floor. Between the footprints, the broken shards, and the overturned chair, he thought he'd worked out what had happened.

“Jack.”

“... yes?”

“Carrying the dishes from the counter to the cabinets, were you?” Jack nodded. “Tripped over the chair and knocked everything on the floor?” Jack nodded, sheepishly this time. “I see. Well...” Jack cringed, expecting rebuke. “I suppose there's nothing that can be done for it. You're helping me make more once we clean up this mess.”

He refrained from chuckling at Jack's gobsmacked expression long enough that the sprite eventually blurted out, “I'm not in trouble?”

Aster quirked an eyebrow at him. Jack squeaked, blushing frostily. It was kind of cute, Aster had to admit.

“No, ya drongo. I've done that once or twice myself in the past. Though, I'll admit,” Aster paused to grin mischievously at Jack. “I've never managed to break them _all_ at once. That's got to be a record, at least.”

Jack started giggling, quite obviously despite himself. “Yeah, well. I don't do things by halves, do I?”

He finally allowed himself to chuckle. “How do you Yanks say it? I think I hear the Naughty List calling?”

Jack broke out in full-blown laughter. Good. As the saying went, laughter healed the soul.

Aster ignored the fact that Jack's laugh was a very pleasing sound to his ears. Very pleasing indeed.

“So, Jackie, ever done pottery before?”

That brought the laughter up short with another squeak. “Um... no?”

Shrugging, he replied, “First time for everything I suppose then, mate. I'm sure you'll do fine.”

They worked in silence for several minutes before Jack cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?” Aster asked, cocking his head to the side.

“For forgiving me.”

He reached over and ruffled Jack's hair. “What're mates for?”

Jack smiled, bright and happy.

It was a good sight.

 


	8. Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83250918584/jackrabbit-week-tricks) on Tumblr.

Apparently, when Aster formally acknowledged that Jack could move in full-time, that was a sign to the wintry Guardian.

A sign that he could start pranking the Easter Bunny without fear of reprisal, that is.

The pranks started out small – swapping his paint bottles with expertly colored water; exchanging the brushes with fake ones whose bristles would fall off at the slightest touch of moisture; the classic bucket of water over a doorway – and slowly escalated as Aster neglected to do more than be grumpy about it. Three years into the pranks, Aster'd had enough.

He started fighting fire with fire. Or, rather, ice with ice, as it were.

He began pranking Jack _back_.

The very first time he'd caught Jack with the bucket-on-the-door trick, the sprite had been completely surprised and confused. Where Jack had used water, Aster had used _paint_.

He'd been minding his own business in the kitchen while Jack had been out, chopping vegetables for dinner, when there had been a loud clanging crash from the foyer, accompanied by a squawking exclamation of surprise. An indignant silence followed, which lasted all of thirty seconds before Jack called out.

“Bunny?”

“Yeah Jackie? Did something happen?” Aster replied innocently.

“Um... a bucket of paint fell on me.”

“That's too bad,” he said, carefully putting down the knife and turning to face the doorway to the kitchen. “I guess you'll need a bath.”

Some grumbling that was too low even for Aster's hearing answered him. Jack came around the corner a moment later. Aster burst out laughing at the rainbow of color Jack was now painted. He didn't even care about the multicolored footprints the sprite left in his wake. He'd made sure to use water-soluble paint just for that reason.

Jack's eyes narrowed when he started laughing. “You did this.”

Aster nodded rapidly, laughing too hard to respond verbally. His laughter redoubled when Jack's eyes suddenly widened like a started deer caught in headlights.

“You... you _pranked_ me. _You!_ ” Jack exclaimed as what had transpired fully clicked, standing there watching Aster, completely dumbfounded.

He fell onto the floor and continued laughing. Jack's reaction was _priceless_. When he finally managed to calm down enough to talk, Jack cleared his throat.

“Yes?” he asked the teen innocently, with full knowledge that this would only escalate their exchanges.

“You do realize this means war, right?” Jack asked, mock-innocently himself.

Aster grinned, triumphant. “I'm looking forward to it.”

And he truly was. Jack had brought a joy to his life that had been missing for millenia. He could put up with a prank war if it meant keeping that joy alive, though what truly made it special was Jack.

Always Jack.

 


	9. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83339498198/jackrabbit-week-comfort) on Tumblr.

Most years, in the months leading up to spring, and by extension, Easter, Aster tended his gardens, practiced his painting, and tested out new flavors of chocolate. This year was no different, other than the odd longing for Jack's company. As it was winter in the north, the sprite spent almost all of his time up there; in fact, the only reason they kept his cave furnished was so he could crash there if he was too tired to come back to the Warren. Aster still missed him, a feeling that was both worrisome and wonderful, and which he absolutely refused to analyze, for fear of what he might find.

So when he stood from planting the last new egg-plant for the season, and turned to find Jack standing a short distance away, obviously distraught, he was caught completely off-guard by the tackle-hug. And the sobbing bundle of winter sprite that he suddenly found wrapped around his torso.

“Frostbite? What're you doing here?” Jack just continued sobbing. Aster wrapped his arms around the sprite's back, returning the fierce hug. “Jackie? Jack? What's wrong?”

Jack shook his head into the ruff on Aster's chest. No words right now. Right. Crying too hard. Aster carefully gathered Jack in his arms and headed for the burrow. He resolutely ignored the feeling of Jack wrapping himself further into his embrace; now was not the time for that discussion with himself.

Coming to rest at his nest, figuring Jack would need a good sleep after whatever-this-was was resolved, he held the sprite close until the sobbing turned to muffled crying and hiccups before asking again.

“Jackie? What's wrong?” he asked again.

Jack sniffled some more before whispering, “Jamie... he... he...”

“He what?” Aster gently prodded when Jack fell silent.

“He... walked through me,” Jack whispered, and then started sobbing again.

Aster felt his heart clench in sympathy. “Oh. Oh, Jack. I'm sorry. It's okay. Let it all out. I'm here.” Aster paused and thought about what he wanted to say, before shrugging mentally and saying it anyway, regardless of how it sounded in his head. “I'll always be here.”

Jack's sobbing subsided shortly afterward once more and, still sniffling, he turned his red-rimmed eyes upwards.

“Do you mean it?” he asked, voice so small and hurt it made Aster's heart ache.

He smiled, soft and warm. “'Course I do, larrikin. You're my mate. My best mate, in fact. I'll always be here for you.”

Jack tentatively returned the smile. “You're the best, Cottontail. Um,” he paused, and worried his lip. “Can... can I stay with you tonight?”

“Of course. Let me just go get you a blanket-”

“No! I mean, I mean... um... like, sleep with you? Please?”

_Oh. Oooh. Well then._

“Sure Jackie.”

He laid back and Jack crawled into the crook of his arm, tucked snugly against his side and proceeded to practically wrap himself around the Pooka. They lay in silence for several minutes and, just before dozing off, he swore he heard Jack murmur, “You're better than any blanket.”

He fell asleep smiling.

 


	10. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83428093073/jackrabbit-week-trust) on Tumblr.

“Jackie?”

“I didn't do anything!”

Aster snickered at the hasty reply. “Yer not in trouble, boofhead. C'mere.”

Jack approached warily, keeping an eye of the horde of googies swarming around them both. Easter was only a week away, and the googies were clamoring to be painted. Jack knew the rules – no touching, no freezing, no pranks, no tricks, no anything that could compromise Easter Preparations – but Aster had decided to shake things up a bit today. Shooing away a group of the googies, he cleared a space next to him large enough for Jack to sit and get comfortable.

“Sit,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Jack eyed him worriedly, but did as he was told. “I didn't do anything. I _didn't_ ,” he muttered mutinously.

The look of wide-eyed shock when Aster shoved a paintbrush in Jack's hands was worth every second of complaining.

“Huh?”

“Pick a color. Pick a googie. Paint. Enough freeloading; if you're going to live here, you're going to help.”

“But you said-”

“Forget what I said,” he interrupted cleanly, turning to look Jack in the eye. “I trust you.”

Jack made strangled cat noises, mouth flapping open and closed several times with no words forthcoming. Finally, he managed, “You what?” in a very small voice.

Sighing, Aster turned fully towards the sprite. “I trust you, Jack Frost. With my holiday.”

Jack froze in place for several long seconds before a radiant smile blossomed across his face. “Really?”

Aster returned the smile warmly, resolutely ignoring the butterflies that had spawned in his stomach. “Really really. Now, paint.”

Jack dutifully did as he was told, unsurprisingly choosing a shade of blue to paint the googie's base coat. Aster returned to his own painting, and they worked in companionable silence for a good half-hour before he felt a cold breeze waft his way.

He looked up and squawked, “What're you doing? I said no ice!”

Jack started and almost dropped the googie he was _covering_ in frost. “Hold on! Hold on! Look!”

The sprite tapped the brush handle against the thin layer of ice once and the shell of frost cracked, falling off the googie in large shards that shattered into dust upon hitting the ground. Beneath...

“Jack,” he said, tone flat.

The spirit in question shot him a worried look. “Yes Bunny?”

“How'd you do that?,” Aster asked, admiring the fern-like patterns that had been frozen into the layered paint on the googie's surface. And judging from the way it was happily swinging it's legs where they hung through Jack's fingers, it didn't mind the frost at all.

Jack blushed and Aster had butterflies all over again. He was seriously going to have to think on that development later. “I just thought that... well, I can make really intricate patterns with my frost – more than I could ever hope to do with just a brush – so I thought I could just... freeze the paint into patterns. It worked! Is... is it not okay?”

Aster blinked. “Not okay? _Not_ okay? Jackie, it's a beaut, is what it is. Good work. Just be careful with the frost!”

Jack grinned brightly at the compliment and nodded, kicking off a new flurry of butterflies in Aster's stomach.

“Yes sir!” he said, saluting with the brush handle.

Aster seriously began to question what was wrong with him as the day progressed. Every time Jack did something... _cute_ or _adorable_ or... _or_...

He paused and glanced at his companion.

_Bloody hell._

He, the Easter Bunny, was falling for Jack Frost! He could scarcely believe it and he was the one experiencing the feelings! Glancing at Jack – good, he hadn't noticed Aster's sudden distraction – he considered the situation. Examining his feelings, he realized they went quite a ways back, to around the time Jack had started moving in, at least, if not earlier. And, he realized, with a sudden burst of clarity, Jack had shown all the signs of being attracted to him _ages_ ago.

He'd just been too blind to see it. As the humans said, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

_Well_ then.

He glanced at Jack again, who was blithely frosting another googie, unaware of the epiphany that had just transpired before him. Aster mulled over his options, and decided to just go with the first thing that popped into his head.

“Hey Frostbite? What're ya doing after Easter?” he inquired innocently.

Jack hummed distractedly before looking up. “Huh? After? Probably just hanging out here, like usual? I mean, my season's over already, so... why do you ask?”

Aster cleared his throat. “I was just wondering if, uh, you'd like to go out with me? I mean, that is, on my trips?” _Smooth Aster, smooth._ He mentally cringed at his slip of the tongue.

His companion stared at him for so long, confusion plan on his face, that Aster worried he'd mucked things up already, when Jack's expression suddenly brightened. And then that damnable smirk appeared.

“Bunny, are you... asking me _out?_ ”

Aster dropped his head into his paw. “Yes, Frostbite.”

“Do... do you mean like, mates, or... or like _mate_ mates?” Jack asked hesitantly, worrying his lip.

He reached over and caught Jack's lip with his finger. “Stop that. You'll cut your lip. More, you're driving me to distraction. I'm liable to do something stupid if you keep that up.”

Jack cocked his head. “Like what?”

Aster kissed him. When he pulled back, Jack was blushing so furiously, he thought it a wonder the sprite didn't melt.

“Oh.”

Aster snickered. “Yeah, 'oh'. Was that okay?”

Jack blinked several times, and the tackled Aster. “Okay? _Okay_? That was... you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.”

Aster hugged him close. “Good. So it's a date?”

Jack grinned at him and nodded. “It's a date.”

Hope bloomed in him just then... and it was _brilliant_.

 


	11. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/83456073722/jackrabbit-week-betrayal) on Tumblr.

Jack had been missing for four months, since the day after Easter.

_Four months._

Aster was beside himself with worry. He'd looked _everywhere_. He'd not failed to notice that Jack's disappearance coincided with the breakout of a large-scale war in the Middle East, but had desperately tried to deny any correlation. It was already proving difficult enough to manage the growing fear and despair in the world without adding his worries about Jack's absence to the mix.

His deepest fear was that Pitch had gotten to the sprite in the confusion when the war broke out. He desperately hoped that he was wrong.

So it was with a heavy heart when he returned home, yet again empty-handed, one gloomy August day to find the door cracked open. His heart leapt into his throat and he'd all but teleported into the house in his haste.

“Jack? Jack?” he called out frantically. “Jack!”

No answer. Now wary, he examined his home for any signs of an intruder.

What he found instead was a note, Jack's Key, and... _and_...

Six grains of black sand.

The note read simply: _I'm sorry._

Aster's hope withered, and died, as he broke down, and cried.

 


	12. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/84886772270/jackrabbit-week-death) on Tumblr.

Jack had told him, once, how he'd been chosen as a Guardian by Manny. How he'd _died_ saving his sister from the same fate that claimed him. And then come back, with no memories of who he had been. The sprite had resolved then and there to figure it out, but it had taken three hundred years of nagging the Moon to no avail before he'd been formally inducted as a Guardian and gained access to his toothbox.

Aster had been told that it took Jack several years to bring himself to watch every memory without feeling bereft of the life he'd lost. He'd been told that it had been _him_ , in fact, that had given Jack the strength to view his past life. He'd been humbled by that admission.

Jack had taken the revelation of his own death fairly well, all things considered. Sure, he'd known about it for some time, since he'd first viewed a snapshot of his memories under Baby Tooth's guidance during the whole Pitch Incident. It hadn't fully sunk in, though, until he'd carefully watched through his memories the second time. The sprite had admitted to rewatching his death scene several times, which was several-times-less-one too many in Aster's opinion. When asked why, Jack had said that he'd “wanted to fully understand why he'd been Chosen.”

In retrospect, Aster couldn't blame him, but he'd wished that Jack had done the viewing at the burrow, where Aster could have been there to take care of him when he'd broken down afterward, rather than picking up the pieces the next day. Still, Jack hadn't been nearly as broken up over his lost mortal life as he'd been when Jamie stopped believing, which had surprised Aster at first, though it made a lot of sense in hindsight.

Which is why Aster could not reconcile the carefree, strong, independent, and joyful Jack Frost with the one that now stood before him: melancholy, morose, powerful, and dangerous, dressed head-to-toe in black, frosted leather and wearing a heavy, dark cloak, hood pulled up to hide his face; the only thing that stood out were his eyes.

His bright, glowing, _yellow_ eyes _._

Aster blamed himself; he _knew_ he should have stayed with Jack the day after Easter, rather than going to rest. He _knew_ ; he'd felt off that day, in a way that he'd learnt meant trouble, but he'd ignored it in his exhaustion. Never again, not if this was the result: Jack Frost, ally of Pitch Black, corrupted Guardian, now of Despair in place of Joy.

He would not make this mistake again.

And he would fix it if it cost him his life.

 


	13. Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/85275251865/jackrabbit-week-redemption) on Tumblr.

“What's the matter, Cottontail?” Jack mocked, his now-familiar sneer firmly in place as he weaved around Aster's back kick. “Cat got your tongue?”

Aster growled and dodged himself, narrowly avoiding the swing of Jack's staff. He needed more time, _damn it_.

It was six months, to the day, in fact, since Aster had found Jack's note, and Key, in the burrow; the one thing he'd never been able to understand about this whole fiasco. Why had Jack returned the Key? _Why_? If he'd joined Pitch, willingly or not, surely Pitch would have wanted to use the Key to attack the Warren.

But... Jack had returned it.

And had returned it the day before he'd shown up at Pitch's side when the Nightmare King had attacked the Workshop.

Aster dodged another strike as he dropped into a rabbit hole and ran to get some distance, thinking he could try a surprise attack when he surfaced. While he moved, he mused over the time since the attack on the Workshop. Pitch, and Jack, had retreated not long after the initial assault, the Yeti's weapons more than a match for the Nightmares, and even partially immune to Jack's powers, insulated as they were. Aster figured that they hadn't been in it to actually take over, or destroy, the place. No, he was almost positive it had been for show, so Pitch could taunt them about his new ally.

Since then, the world had steadily fallen further and further into despair, with a heavy dose of fear trailing along in it's wake. The human's war had gotten worse and worse, more countries jumping in as everyone could sense the pervading fear and tried desperately to fend of the impending doom they all felt. Their belief base had taken a bit of a shock, but they'd already experienced this sort of attack once, and had made contingency plans in case it ever happened again. He had helped Tooth redesign her Palace to be better fortified; North's Yeti had supplied plenty of weaponry and defensive structures, and a small contingent of their less-hairy brethren, popularly known as 'Bigfoots' amongst the few humans who'd sighted them, manned the defenses day and night.

That had paid off when Jack and Pitch had attacked two months ago. They had again been driven off, but only after the Palace had sustained not-insignificant damage. Jack was getting stronger the more people despaired, and Pitch was not far behind. It hadn't escaped Aster's notice that Jack was now decidedly stronger than Pitch, in many ways, though Pitch didn't seem to have noticed; he was too busy reveling in the fear and destruction while the decidedly manic-depressive Jack trailed along dutifully at his side.

Aster personally thought the manic depression was a result of the Despair warring with Jack's core of Joy, but he had no evidence to back that up, just instinct. But he knew to trust his instincts, which is why, when he popped back out of his tunnels and managed to surprise Jack, he grappled the sprite instead of attacking outright, pinning him to the ground and getting right in his face.

“Jack! Jack, listen to me!” he shouted, trying to be heard over the din of battle that rang across the streets of Burgess.

Jack snarled and attempted to headbutt Aster, who narrowly dodged the strike, but then had to spend another minute rolling around on the ground with Jack to get him pinned down again. Jack's hood had fallen off during the tussle; Aster had to stifle a gasp of shock at the change that had come over his erstwhile companion's face. The skin had gone a sallow, almost sickly, shade of white, the veins standing out in stark bluish-purple relief against it. His yellow eyes were dark-rimmed and sunken, as if his semi-undead status was leaning more towards dead than alive these days. Jack's hair, too, had changed, turning into a rat's nest of dark grey, matted strands that had grown impossibly long in less than a year's time.

In Aster's distraction, Jack managed to free a hand and grabbed his staff from where it had landed nearby, before hitting the Pooka upside the head, hard. Aster slumped to the side, dazed, and reacted too slowly to be able to stop Jack pinning him in turn and pressing his staff down on Aster's throat. He gasped for breath and managed to push back just enough to speak, though not throw Jack off. The sprite, for all that he looked even more gaunt than before, was stronger than Aster could have ever anticipated.

“Jack!” he shouted, pausing to cough several times before continuing. “You don't have to do this!”

Jack grinned maniacally at him. “Why do you care? You'll be dead soon!”

Aster growled in reply, “You were good once! You don't have to do what Pitch says! I know that your Joy is still somewhere inside you!” Jack punched him hard in the face. Aster spit out a mouthful of blood. “You can still come back to us!”

“I don't care about the Guardians!” Jack shouted, spittle flying in his rage. “They left me alone for _three hundred years_!”

Aster shivered at the malice in that once-lovely voice and said, “You can still come back to me.”

Jack got right up in his face, and whispered, “And you attacked me in sixty-eight over a _misunderstanding_.”

He then pressed down even harder, overcoming Aster's strength for a moment and cutting off his air supply. They struggled for several long seconds before Aster managed to push up just enough to gasp, “I love you!”

Jack froze, and the air around them stilled, surrounding them in a bubble of chilled silence. Aster, in his partially oxygen-deprived daze, admired how the ice crystals glittered in the moonlight. Wait... moonlight? When had Manny come out? It had been overcast not a moment before.

“Bunny?” Jack whispered softly. His abrupt change caused Aster to snap his eyes back into focus on the sprite's face. “Aster?”

The pressure on his windpipe eased and then ceased; Jack collapsed atop him, murmuring repeatedly, “I'm sorry I got lost and forgot” over and over again. Aster hesitantly hugged him back, only to have the sprite spring up, a slight sneer curling his lip as he stared off to their left.

At Pitch.

“There's something I have to do,” he said, before leaning down and kissing Aster soundly enough to daze him once again. “I love you too.”

The melancholic way Jack said that sent alarm bells ringing in the Pooka's mind, but before he could grab Jack or his staff, the sprite had charged off towards Pitch, snarling in anger. Aster tried to stand, but found one of his footpaws iced to the ground. He started hacking away at it with one of his boomerangs while he shouted for Jack to stop, to no avail.

Jack laid into Pitch with a ferocity he'd never seen before. The Nightmare King was put on the defensive, surprised by Jack's sudden betrayal, but rapidly started to gain the upper hand, despite Jack's power; experience, it seemed, outranked raw power. After several long minutes of fighting, and Aster only halfway through the ice, Pitch pinned Jack against a tree with a spear of shadow through the gut.

“Jack!” Aster shouted in dismay, the other Guardians held at bay by the hordes of nightmares, and worse, that Pitch had conjured up.

Pitch ignored him and moved forward, coming face-to-face, and nearly nose-to-nose, with Jack. The sounds of battle dimmed as Aster watched, listening to Pitch whisper, “You would betray _me?_ After all that we have accomplished? I suffer not traitors lightly. You, young Jack, shall die this day.”

Jack coughed up blood and spat it to the side. Pity, it would have looked glorious covering Pitch's smarmy face. “No Pitch. Today, you die.”

Pitch reared back and laughed, a mad cackling sound if there ever was one. “You cannot kill me, for I am fear! And there is _always_ fear!”

Jack grinned ferally. “We shall see about that.”

And snapped his fingers.

The sound reverberated around the now-silent streets as all of Pitch's shadow and sand creations dissipated in an instant, including the shadow-spear pinning Jack to the tree. Pitch reeled backwards several steps as Jack dropped, coughing up more blood.

“What did you _do?_ ” Pitch screamed hysterically. “The fear... why can't I-”

“You can feel it, can't you?” Jack said, coughing one more time before standing and icing his abdomen for the moment. “The complete lack of fear?”

Pitch stared at him, wide-eyed and shaking. “What? How? That's impossible!”

“For just this one moment, there is no fear in this world, only-” Jack surged forward, forming a spear-tip of ice on the end of his staff and slamming it into, and through, Pitch's heart. “ _Joy_.” Jack twisted the staff, and Pitch coughed up his own blood, dark and thick, upon the ground. “Now _die_.”

Jack placed his hand over Pitch's face and screamed, wind gusting off of him in a heavy wave that knocked over everyone else present. Pitch froze solid in the blink of an eye and then Jack wrenched his staff free.

Pitch shattered.

Aster freed himself in that moment and managed to catch Jack as he fell, exhausted. The ice on his wound began to melt, rapidly.

“Jack!” he shouted. “Jack, I've got you. It's okay. It's over.”

Jack reached up weakly and clutched at Aster's chest ruff. “I did that... for you... I lov-” he coughed again, spitting blood. “You....”

And then Jack went limp.

“Jack!”

 


	14. Rebirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](http://clevercorgi.tumblr.com/post/85673070540/jackrabbit-week-rebirth) on Tumblr.

Jack awoke to the sound of music. The tune lilted up and down, sometimes quick as a bunny, other times slow and soft; it reminded Jack of songs he'd heard when visiting Scotland and Ireland. Still drowsy, he lay in place, unmoving, and listened to the entrancing sound. After a few minutes of content listening, Jack worked up the energy to open his eyes. Aster was sitting by his bedside, murmuring the lovely tune, eyes closed and – ah, that explained why his hand was warm – was holding his right hand.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only managed a croaking gasp. Still, that was enough to arrest Aster's singing, mores the pity, and cause him to gasp himself as he opened his eyes and found Jack staring back. The sprite gestured weakly towards his throat with his unoccupied hand. Aster nodded exaggeratedly and ran to the sink across the room – North's Infirmary, Jack noted distantly as recognition set in – returning quickly with a cool glass of water. Jack took measured sips for several minutes before he felt up to speaking, turning his head slightly to the side to indicate he was done.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low and hoarse from disuse. How long had he been out?

Bunny set the glass on the bedside table and retook his seat, and Jack's hand, placing it carefully between both his paws and clutching it like a lifeline.

“After the battle with Pitch, where you- killed him,” Aster said, pausing as an expression of awed incredulity flit across his face. “You collapsed. You've been in a coma since.”

“How-” Jack coughed a few times. “How long?”

Aster shifted uncomfortably. “Four months.”

Jack's eyes widened in shock. “Easter?”

“Apples.” He smiled softly. “No worries, mate.”

Sighing in relief that Bunny's holiday hadn't been ruined by what he'd done, he closed his eyes and drifted, drowsing. How he was still tired after sleeping for four months, he didn't know. He woke again after some indeterminate period of time, once more to the beautiful lilting tune of Aster's.

He hummed. “What is that? It sounds Gaelic.”

He opened his eyes when Aster chuckled. “Pookan, actually. I... may have influenced Gaelic a bit, by accident.” Jack frowned and made an inquiring noise. “I was a fertility spirit first, Frostbite.; Easter came much later. Early pagans summoned me for rituals of a...” Aster paused, shifting awkwardly. “Carnal nature.”

Jack made a little 'oh' with his mouth, before giggling softly. “Well, at least I know I'll be in good hands.” He then froze. “Um... that is, if you'll still have me, after...”

He trailed off awkwardly himself, and glanced to the side, not wanting to see the rejection on Aster's face. A paw gently cupped his cheek, turning his face back, and was promptly followed by a gentle kiss. Jack gasped lightly into it.

“'Course I will, you boofhead. It's Pitch's fault, not yours.”

Jack glanced to the side and didn't say anything.

“Jack?” his companion asked after a moment, alarm coloring his voice.

“Not exactly. I went to him,” he admitted softly.

The paw was back, forcing Jack to look at Aster's betrayed expression. “Why?”

Jack was silent for so long, Aster opened his mouth to ask again, but Jack's words cut off whatever he was going to say.

“I discovered a way to kill him. But...” Jack swallowed thickly. “I had to join him to accomplish it. I'm sorry.”

The last came out as a whisper, and Jack tried to pull away, but Bunny's paw held firm, and was quickly followed by the other, gripping one shoulder as the other slid down to it's twin and pulled him into – a hug? Jack was flabbergasted and flailed about weakly for a moment before his hands settled on strong shoulders, slipping down to the Pooka's slim waist, where he finally managed to get his fingers to cooperate long enough to grip the fur lightly.

“Drongo.”

Jack chuckled. “Your drongo?”

Aster sighed contentedly. “Strewth.”

Eventually they separated, Aster settling Jack back against his pillows in a sitting position at the sprite's insistence. Jack also made him sit on the edge of the bed so he could feel the Pooka's warmth against his side. He smiled softly at Jack's request. They sat in companionable silence for long enough that Jack started to drowse again when Aster finally spoke.

“Why?”

Jack snorted weakly. “Because he'd hurt you.”

Aster turned fully to stare at him. “Because... he hurt... me?” He repeated dumbly. Jack nodded. “You devised a means to kill him... for _me?_ ”

Jack blushed, nodding again. “Yes.”

“But why did you have to join him? Do you have any idea how much that _hurt_?”

“I'm sorry. I couldn't come up with any way to get close enough to infect him too.”

Bunny frowned. “Infect?”

“Well, that's kind of a strong word, but it's the closest to the meaning I need. Yeah, infect. I spent the last year infecting every single mortal and spirit with seeds of Joy that would bloom at my command, all at once. Even Pitch, for a few crucial seconds, which is why I needed to get so close.”

Aster's frown deepened for a moment, before his eyes shot wide. “So that there would be no fear.” Jack nodded.

“You made the _entire_ world free of fear just to kill him permanently?”

Jack grinned, proud of his accomplishment. “Yes.”

“And you did that for me?”

He nodded again.

“Why were you fighting so hard for him then?” Aster asked, frowning.

Jack paused, and glanced to the side. “He infected me in turn. It was... hard, to think straight sometimes. And the more Joy I seeded, the less I had for myself. Despair is... hard to overcome on your own when you lack the Joy to counteract it. You gave what I needed though when you... said what you said.”

Jack blushed and grinned shyly - and was promptly enveloped in a crushing hug.

“I love you,” he whispered in Jack's ear.

“I love you too,” Jack whispered back.

They resettled themselves, this time with Jack cradled against Aster's chest at his own insistence. He lay against it, warm against the fur, and drowsed again, listening to the Pooka's strong heart beats. Wait....

“Aster.”

“Yes?”

“Why is there an echo? It's like there's more than one heart.”

The Pooka chuckled. “I've got three.”

Jack pulled back and blinked up at him. “ _Alien_. _._ ”

He got an eye roll for his efforts. “Well, yeah. Drongo.”

Jack grinned, unrepentant, before a thought occurred to him. “Bunny?”

“Hmm?” came the distracted reply as Aster nuzzled the top of his head with his chin.

Oh. Chinning. Like rabbits. He was being marked.

_Awesome._

“How'd I survive?” Aster stilled and looked down worriedly. “I mean, Pitch hurt me really, really bad. I shouldn't have survived that.”

“Aster?” Jack prompted after several minutes of silence.

He scratched the back of his head, ears flat against his skull, and averted his gaze. “I, ah, may have bonded with you so I could heal you. Nothing else would have worked; you were nearly dead by the time you passed out.”

“Bonded...?” Jack repeated, racking his brain for the meaning. His eyes shot wide when he remembered. “We're _married_?”

Aster winced. Okay, so his voice could go _really_ high pitched when he was surprised. He'd not known that.

“Uh... yeah. I guess,” he said awkwardly. “Yeah.”

Jack leveled a considering gaze on his – his _husband_ , wow that was going to take some getting used to – musing over the situation. Well, if he was honest with himself, he _did_ love the stupid kangaroo, and he probably would have wanted this eventually anyway. And Aster did say it's what saved him. He really couldn't bring himself to be mad about it.

Not that he wouldn't give Aster shit about it for _ages_.

“Jack?”

Oh, right. He'd been puttering around in his head, which was not running at it's usual speed. He must have left Aster hanging for quite some time. Oops.

“You're an idiot-” Aster flinched. “-to think I'd be mad about that.”

“Wot?” Apparently he'd not expected straightforward acceptance.

“I'll admit, I'd have rather waited to marry you for like another decade or two, to make sure that's what I wanted, but... I'm not mad.” Aster sighed, relieved. “You still have to court me proper.”

“Wot?”

“Well, I missed out with you bonding us all-of-a-sudden-like. So you have to make up for it.”

“Wot?”

Jack giggled. “Yes, my broken record. And no consummation until we've had at least three dates. I wouldn't want to be thought of as easy.”

“ _Wot_?”

“If you keep saying that, I'll make it ten.” Jack grinned at him unabashedly, baring his teeth in silent warning.

Silence. Ah, blessed silence.

“I'll take that as agreement. So, _husband_ , as soon as I'm well enough to travel... I believe you owe me a first date.” Jack nuzzled against the Pooka's chest and hummed contentedly.

Aster blinked at him several times, before grinning brightly. “That I do, Frostbite. That I do.”

“Sing for me?”

“As you wish.”

Jack fell asleep, contentedly listening to the sound of Aster's lilting songs.

He hoped to be able to do that for a long, long time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that. This was a fun series of ficlets to put together. Maybe I should do Jackrabbit Weeks more often?
> 
> Thank you all for reading. ^_^


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